


Never Mind the Darkness

by Brumeier



Series: Bite Sized Fic 2020 [61]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Bored Sherlock Holmes, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Prompt Fill, Rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25689370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: LJ Comment Fic for Song Titles prompt:any, any,"November Rain"By Guns N' RosesIn which Sherlock is bored, and John has a lot on his mind.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Sheppard
Series: Bite Sized Fic 2020 [61]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610332
Comments: 8
Kudos: 34
Collections: Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2020





	Never Mind the Darkness

John sat in his usual spot, _War and Peace_ open in his hands but unread. Outside a cold rain was falling, beating hard against the windows of 221B. A little bit colder and it would’ve been snow. Had been already, a week or so ago.

He was enjoying the downtime. They were between cases, there was no pressing local business that needed attending to, and the cupboard was fully stocked. With the bad weather outside, and the crackling fire in the fireplace, John was tempted to take a little nap in his chair.

Sherlock didn’t do downtime well.

He’d paced the length and breadth of the apartment. He’d poked at some of the disgusting science experiments he kept in the fridge, one of which had him cursing and grumbling. He’d turned his bedroom upside down looking for a missing button.

Currently, he was sitting on the sofa with his violin, glaring at it as if the polished wood had offended him in some way.

John had lived with Sherlock long enough to know how easy it was for the man to get lost in his own head. Too many thoughts were bouncing around in there and he didn’t always have a way to focus them.

“Sherlock. Play it or put it out of its misery.”

Sherlock looked up at him, face completely blank. John wondered if he’d retreated to his internal mind palace, but then Sherlock blinked.

“What?”

“The violin. You keep looking at it like that, it might burst into flame.”

Sherlock transferred his glare to John but put the instrument away.

“It seems unlikely that there hasn’t been a single crime in the entirety of London,” he muttered.

John held his tongue, not pointing out that Lestrade and Scotland Yard were more than capable of solving the average crime. It was the above-average ones where they needed Sherlock’s assistance.

John dogeared the page in his book and set it aside. He knew one way to get Sherlock’s focus back.

“Wanna shag?” John asked, waggling his eyebrows.

“Sexual relations are not the answer to every problem, Sheppard,” Sherlock said snappishly. But a faint blush stained the pale skin on his delicate cheekbones.

“Good way to pass the time,” John replied. He stretched, making sure his sweater rode up enough to show some of the bare skin on his stomach. 

He could play Sherlock almost as well as he played the guitar.

Much later, John stood by the window in his bedroom, looking out at the night. The darkness wasn’t complete, not in the city, but he could still make out some stars. Sherlock was sleeping in the bed, sprawled and boneless in a way he rarely was when he was awake. Sleep softened him, took the edge off his intensity.

John hadn’t told Sherlock he was leaving. He had to go home in a couple of days, fly back to the States for a funeral. His father’s funeral. John was worried his brother might try to talk him into staying and helping out with the family business. He was more worried that Sherlock wouldn’t even notice he was gone.

Hearts can change, or so the song went. Had John’s? He was pretty sure it had. And maybe Sherlock wouldn’t miss him, but the opposite wouldn’t be true. John would come back to London.

Everybody needs somebody. Even Sherlock Holmes.

**Author's Note:**

>  **AN:** I thought it would be fun to revisit this 'verse, see how the boys are getting on. Not well for poor John. The title is a line from the lyrics of the prompted song, and other lyrics turn up in the fic as well.


End file.
